Twisted Love
by Stodgey
Summary: JR slash. Jack won't let Ralph get away from him that easily... UPDATED AGAIN! CHAPTER THREE IS HERE!
1. Captured

A/N: I deleted this. I'm a doofus. Thanks, Duchess for alerting me.

Ok, so Hi! Again! Please enjoy. Thanks for all the great reviews.

What You Need To Know: The Boat never came. Original, I know.

Disclaimer: Not mine. There're only here through Mr Golding's genius.

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Ralph looked wildly around him. There was no way out. A harsh sob wracked his body and he shook with exhaustion and defeat. They were going to kill him. Already he could hear their braying howls as they closed in for the kill, animalistic, savage, echoing even above the roar of the hungry fire.

Ralph had to fight the strong, choking desire to throw himself on the soft sand and cry bitterly, giving in to his terror, giving in to the savagery, surrendering the pathetic claim he still had on his young life, a claim he was sure he wouldn't have for much longer. Death would make them all go away. Death would make Jack go away.

And if he _had_ been any other boy, he would have done, but he wasn't.

/I was the chief./ He told himself, fiercely. /I still _am_ the chief and just because they have their sticks and their paint…/ His thoughts trailed off. /They _can't_ take that away from me!/ he finished, desperately.

He turned away from the burning island and stared out towards the sea. The huge mass of water looked the same as it always did. Glistening in the sun, the waves pounding soothingly on the shore, unchangeable. It was a strange comfort to Ralph: that even though the island was in total uproar, the sea was unaffected, unconcerned about the murderous turn of events. He was drawn towards its ignorant, unchanging innocence like a moth to the flame. Hesitantly, he stumbled down the beach, his eyes locked on his salvation.

The water would hide him. The water would embrace him, rather than kill him.

A loud, animalistic cry wrenched his attention away from his blue haven and he turned, his heart in his throat.

They were there. They had found him. Slowly, they melted out of the jungle, low to the ground, their spears pointing towards their quarry. Quietly they fanned out, cutting off any escape back into the hot depths of the island, their faces black, painted and terrifying. With the flames and the smoke framing the scene, the hunters looked like something out of the depths of hell

Jack stepped out before his ranks and smiled predatorily at his human prey. Ralph backed up a couple of steps, away from the boy's bolting blue stare.

"You ready to give up yet, Ralph?" the boy yelled over the noise of the hungry flames behind him.

Ralph shook his head numbly and stumbled backwards.

The self-appointed chief smiled and held up a hand to his hunters. "Remember, he's _mine_!" he growled at them. Then he dropped his hand and, with a series of mindless shrieks and calls, the final stage of the hunt began, the hunters leaping forward towards the wide-eyed, trembling boy.

Ralph spun and ran. He sped clumsily down the beach, sending up showers of dry sand with his bare feet. When he reached the wet sand, the going became easier and he increased the distance between himself and the bristling spears. He didn't stop when he reached the sea, wading desperately out, the water pushing against his exhausted body, taking its toll.

When the hunters reached the water, Jack signalled them to stop. Tightly grasping his spear, he waded out into the shallows.

"Stop, Ralph!" he commanded to the other boy, speaking loudly over the sound of the waves.

Ralph flinched when he heard the voice and he picked up his pace, wading feverishly out, wondering desperately when the water would be deep enough to allow for swimming. Then he could disappear.

Jack clenched his jaw angrily and spoke again. "Stop, Ralph, or I'll put this spear in your back!" he threatened, menacingly.

Ralph slowed, then stopped. His shoulders slumped dejectedly: he was defeated.

Jack smiled triumphantly. "Come back to shore," he ordered.

Ralph turned, but made no effort to follow the command. "Why should I?" he called, his voice breaking. "You'll only kill me. I think I'd prefer to take my chances out here."

Jack laughed harshly. "And where will you go?" He gestured at the horizon. "You're a strong swimmer but there are no other islands in sight. Even you can't get away like that."

Ralph didn't reply.

"Or were you planning on waiting out there, then coming back when we'd got bored?" Jack nodded towards the boys behind him. "I'd post hunters all around the accessible bits of shoreline. You wouldn't be able to get one foot onto the beach without being taken and brought to me. I wouldn't give up on you. " He smiled, slyly. "You're well worth the extra effort. "

Ralph looked uncertainly about him, his hopes deteriorating. A lump formed in his throat and water began gathering in his eyes. He had no way out. He swallowed, forcefully, unwilling to allow Jack or any of the other boys see him cry like a girl.

Jack watched him, consideringly. "I won't kill you, Ralph," he said, steadily.

Ralph looked up, surprised. "But what was the point of…" He gestured weakly at the hunters. "I thought you… But…" he trailed off. "You want me _dead_!"

Jack clenched his jaw. "Wrong, Ralph! You shouldn't make so many assumptions. I wanted Piggy dead, yes. The fat lump had it coming to him. Him and his 'assmar'! I was sick of the sight of him," he spat.

Ralph looked at him, hatred shining brightly in his eyes. "You and Roger had no right to kill him!" he said, fiercely. "He had just as much right to be on this island as you do! You should be ashamed, Jack Merridew!" Ralph turned his heated gaze to the others. "And all the rest of you!"

Jack shook his head, slowly, his hands clenched to fists at his side. "Well I'm not ashamed!" he said, defiantly. "Do you hear me Ralph?" He turned and yelled into the sky, "I AM _NOT_ ASHAMED!" He turned back to Ralph. "And there's nothing you can do about it," he said, quietly. "Who are you to lecture _me_? I'm chief!"

Ralph turned and resumed his wading through the salt water, away from the red-haired boy.

Jack watched him in annoyance. "Stop, you idiot. I told you I'm not going to kill you!"

"Yeah. And I don't believe murderers," came the cool reply.

Jack almost yelled in anger and frustration. "If you don't come back right now, Ralph, I swear I'll come in and get you," he said, forcefully.

Ralph stopped again, but didn't turn to face him.

Jack left the horrific implications of his words hanging for a second, then added, "There are sharks in the sea, too."

That was the deciding factor. Ralph couldn't deal with sharks on top of everything else. He turned and took a small step forward, the waves buffeting him, almost as if they were encouraging his return to the island. "You swear you won't kill me?" he asked in a small voice.

Jack's eyes glinted as he placed a hand over his heart, "I swear."

Ralph's eyes swept over the assorted savages on the beach, finally resting on Roger. "And you promise than none of the others will kill me?"

Jack smiled. "They won't lay a hand on you without my permission."

Ralph ran his tongue over his dry lips and swallowed, convulsively. He didn't trust the red-haired boy but out of the three choices he had - go willingly, get captured, die - he knew that this would be the easiest one. And he was so tired.

The boy nodded curtly at Jack. "Alright," he agreed.

The chief's eyes lit up.

Slowly, Ralph began making his way back to shore, back towards the people who, only a few minutes ago, he thought had been trying to kill him. His heart was heavy and his feet were dragging along the seabed. As he got nearer and nearer the other boys, close enough to make out their wide grins, he got more and more nervous, sure that he was making a huge mistake in giving himself up willingly. He glanced up at Jack and the predatory glint in the boy's eyes did nothing to dispel his fears. He stopped, his heart thumping in his ribcage, at a loss of what to do.

Jack saw his hesitation and growled angrily. He pushed quickly through the waves and took a crushing hold on the other boy's wrist before the boy could attempt another escape. Ralph looked at him, fear and doubt in his eyes, and he immediately tried to wrench back. Jack dragged the resisting boy towards him, his job made pitifully easy due to the other boy's exhaustion and hunger. When Ralph was near enough, the chief grabbed his other arm and twisted it up behind his back. Ralph arched his back in pain, gasping.

Jack grinned, revelling in how easily he could hurt his former chief, and leant forward. "You're _mine_, Ralph," he whispered softly into the boy's ear, "and there will be _no_ escape. Not ever."

Ralph struggled against the taller boy as Jack dragged his reluctant captive back to the beach, back to _his_ domain. He was terrified. What would they do to him? What would _Jack_ do to him? Wetness pooled in his eyes again. The twelve-year-old had never wanted to be back home more than at that moment, back in the loving arms of his mummy and daddy, back with his pony. But it wasn't to be. Slowly he was forced back towards the one place he had been trying to escape from. The place where two murders had been committed already, and more atrocities were sure to happen. It was his own personal hell. And he knew, with an odd certainty, that the island wouldn't let him go as easily this time. He was trapped.

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A/N: I'd appreciate any reviews you kind people are willing to give me.


	2. Voting

A/N     People liked my story. *Blinks with happiness* I never expected such a big response! *Looks around guiltily* I know I said that I thought this chapter would be R rated - and it was going to be - but when I wrote it the whole idea of Jack throwing Ralph on the ground and ravishing him just didn't seem to fit. Don't worry - it will happen, and in pure evil Jack style, lol. Can't wait!

Thanks to all my reviewers!! You made my day! The first one I got I was so certain that it'd be a flame that I actually had to read a couple of other emails before tackling it! Yeah, I've decided that I'm a little paranoid *grins happily*.

Athena: I would LOVE to be on your website! I've never been on a website before and no doubt it will do great things for my ego.

Hope you enjoy!!

            Ralph was pushed forward, out of the sea, onto the wet sand by Jack's strong hand.  He lay there for a moment, catching his breath, then struggled to his feet. He looked up straight into the painted faces of the tribe, crowded around him. He stumbled instinctively backwards but was brought up short by the butt of a spear between his shoulder blades.

            "Nuh uh," Jack's breathy voice, so near to his ear, made Ralph shiver involuntarily. "No more running away for you. I want my hunters to see you, see what you've become." The Chief's cool, rough hand encircled the back of his neck. "Stand still," he demanded, "and give them a proper look."

            Ralph tried to pull away from the restraining hand but Jack squeezed the back of his neck tightly. He gasped in pain and increased his struggling. The chief only increased his grip, digging into the soft flesh with his finger nails. Ralph forced himself to go limp. The hand immediately lessened the painful hold, but Jack didn't move it away from the boy's neck. It was now proprietary. 

            Ralph breathed in deeply, then stood, tall and proud, head up, fists clenched at his side. He was not going to allow the others to see that he was anything other than what he had been when they had voted him chief. He was not going to play Jack's power games. If the boy had thought that, by sparing his life, Ralph was going to conform to every single whim he had, he was very much mistaken. Ralph still had his pride.

            Jack growled softly when his eyes took in his captive's defiant posture. Already he could see the doubt flickering in his followers' eyes. They had attacked Ralph with the understanding that he was a broken individual, a young boy with no friends and no power. But now, to be faced with a tall, athletic boy, albeit trembling with exhaustion, whose very stance demanded respect, was a totally different thing. Never had the seething mass of young boys been more reminded that Ralph had been their chief, had held power over them, had owned the conch… They were enthralled by the boy's determination, his defiance even in the eye of unbeatable odds. There was no way that they could harm or laugh at such a being.

            Roger stepped slowly out from the painted ranks, gave Ralph a look of utter hatred, then smiled and swung his spear, hitting the boy sharply across his shins. Ralph gasped in pain and dropped to the floor. 

            There was a moment of suffocating silence, then - 

            "You will kneel to your chief, prisoner!" Roger spat, his voice thick with an unidentifiable emotion.

            Jack looked across at the dark boy, an odd expression crossing his face. He nodded shortly at his second-in-command, then turned to his tribe.

            "Who am I?" he demanded.

            "Chief!" came the shouted reply.

            "And who is this?" Jack indicated to Ralph, sitting in the damp sand, nursing his bruised shins.

            There was silence. None of the hunters knew what answer Jack desired and giving the wrong one could result in punishment.

            "Well, who is this?" Jack shouted, eyes glittering dangerously.

            Maurice made a rude noise in reply. Everyone laughed, Jack included.

            "That's right! That's exactly what he is!" He paused and his face contorted into a scowl. "But not all of you know that. Some of you still believe he's chief," his voice broke as he spat the words.

            The others looked at each other, awkwardly. Ralph looked up at Jack, unsure about what the boy was going to do. The chief looked down at him with such a look of malice that it took his breath away. He attempted to struggle to his feet, so he could be on a level footing as Jack, so he could argue his case, but the red headed boy saw his movement and leapt on him, keeping him pinned to the ground. Ralph struggled but Jack was the stronger that day and his grasping hands soon found the other boy's neck, locking around it, cutting off Ralph's air supply.

            Ralph was immediately still. He lay on the ground, miserably, looking up at the boy lying naked on top of him with a scowl on his face.

            "Get off me," he choked.

            Jack smiled, relishing the control he had over Ralph at that moment. They lay like that, eyes locked, Jack's hand wrapped tightly around Ralph's neck, neither of them giving an inch.

            Then Jack laughed harshly. "This _was_ your chief," he said to the hunters gathered above them, "but not any more. I spared his life and he belongs to_ me_ now, to use as I wish and to punish when he displeases me."

            Ralph flinched, not at the words, but at the excited fire burning in Jack's eyes. His breath came quicker and he shut his eyes against the other's prying gaze. Jack snorted, triumphantly, at being able to get this small concession out the boy. He released the hold on the fair headed boy's neck slightly, so it was not choking, just uncomfortable. His entire focus was drawn by the quick, irregular beat of Ralph's blood in his jugular thumping against his thumb. Blood lust came upon him, the blood lust of a hunter. He ground his naked body into Ralph, exercising his complete control over the other. Ralph bit his lip and kept his eyes closed, but his body was tense and ready for anything Jack threw at him.

            The red headed boy laughed harshly and got up smoothly, placing a dirty foot heavily on Ralph's chest, dissuading the boy from trying to follow suit. He then addressed the crowd of boys surrounding him.

            "I don't want any misunderstandings over who has full control on this island. Do you hear?"

            There was a general murmur of consent.

            "And, to prevent any confusion," he smiled nastily and ground his foot down hard, making the boy beneath him gasp, "we will hold _another_ vote. And you will choose." He looked around menacingly, daring anyone to disagree with him. "You will choose between me and," he gestured dismissively to the prone body on the ground, "him." His voice held an uncomfortable ring of self-assured power and finality.

            Ralph opened his eyes in horror. Was Jack really going to do this? Was he really going to be so cruel as to rip any semblance of esteem or power away from him? By casting this vote, Jack would destroy any respect that the tribe held for him, and, being a prisoner, Ralph knew how much that tiny amount of reverence would add to his chances of survival. Why would Jack do such a horrid thing when he was already, undeniably, chief and held his followers in the palm of his hand? 

            Ralph glanced up at the boy above him and his question was immediately answered by the savage look of triumph and revenge dancing on the painted face.

            Jack wanted it to be as if Ralph had _never_ been chief. He wanted to eradicate any memory of the conch, or rescue, or the fact that Ralph once held power over him. Ralph could recount the first vote and Jack's fury and indignation and embarrassment over not being elected. He also vividly remembered when Jack had openly rivalled him for chieftainship, and the total humiliation the boy must have felt when not _one_ person voted for him. Jack wanted to make everyone forget his twice-felt shame, and, at the same time, force the humiliation he had felt onto Ralph. He wanted revenge.

            Jack raised his hand and the group was immediately silent. "Now," he said, quietly, "who wants Ralph for chief?"

            Jack's face was contorted into a scowl, as if daring a hand to go up. His eyes flickered quickly around the crowd, his gaze resting on every boy until they turned away, unable to take the penetrating stare. The only boy not to flinch when their chief's eyes locked on theirs was Roger. The dark boy only gave a small smile and jerked his head in silent approval.

            "No one?" Jack's voice was cruel in his savage pleasure.

            There was a scuffle at the back of the group and then one trembling hand was raised above the sea of heads. Jack growled softly.

            "Bring him to me."

            A couple of the bigguns grabbed the offender and hauled him to the front, the other hunters parting before them. The two boys threw the small heap to the floor in front of Jack. Ralph twisted his head and could just see who the boy was. An unparalleled gratefulness gripped his heart and he almost smiled. He turned to look at Jack and any hope he had felt was immediately quenched, replaced by an all consuming dread. Jack's blue eyes flashed with such great anger that it took Ralph's breath away.

            "So," Jack said softly, "you didn't learn your lesson properly last time, did you?" He bent and, without taking his foot from Ralph, jerked the trembling boy's head up, grasping him cruelly by the hair.

            The boy whimpered but didn't yell out.

            "Which one are you?" Jack continued in that forced calm tone. "Sam or Eric?"

            "Sam," came the defiant reply.

            "And what did you think to gain by defying me, Sam?" Jack forced the boy's head up until he was staring into his eyes.

            "You asked me to vote and I did," Sam said, in a small voice.

            "True, but I thought I had already persuaded you to which direction your loyalties lie. Have you forgotten, Sam?" His voice hardened, "Do you need Roger to remind you?"

            Sam flinched as if the boy had hit him. He looked up with fear-filled eyes and shook his head, fervently.

            "Good," Jack was satisfied and released the boy's hair. "We will have to have another talk about your obedience soon, Sam." His eyes turned icy. "And if I hear _anything_ about your behaviour that displeases me, I will give you to Roger."

            Sam's eyes widened at the threat and he whimpered in fear. He lay at the chief's feet not daring to move in case the volatile boy became angry at him again and carried out his promise.

            Jack ignored him. "No votes," he said viciously, as if the incident had never occurred. "Now then, who wants _me_ for chief?"

            The hands went up smoothly, as if they were all part of a well oiled machine, and Jack's grin was one of savage delight. 

            "Well, I'm chief then."

            Ralph almost had to stop himself from snorting in mirth. Jack had said the words graciously, as if the outcome hadn't already been decided before he had even suggested the vote, and as if he would have accepted any other decision.

            Jack must have felt the movement in the other boy's chest. He glared down at the boy. "Bring me rope," he growled to the audience.

            The fire was dying down. A couple of boys ran into the smouldering jungle and returned with long bunches of the strong creepers. They handed them reverently to their chief.

            Jack grabbed them and then knelt down to his captive's level. He replaced his foot with his hand, again around Ralph's neck, keeping the boy from moving. Roger moved forward, as if to help, but Jack looked at him sharply and shook his head.

            "He's mine. I can deal with him by myself."

            Roger stopped and looked at the other boy, a look of contemplation on his face. He nodded, slowly, then moved to stand over Sam, who trembled visibly at the boy's unwelcome presence. Roger smiled darkly and knelt down to the other boy, whispering something in his ear. Sam jerked and his face, even under his suntan, paled.

            Jack turned back to his prisoner, his eyes raking Ralph's defenceless naked body hungrily. He removed his hand for a second, to turn Ralph over, and it was the moment Ralph had been waiting for. He immediately sprang up, trying to catch Jack unawares, trying to get away. His movements, drastically slowed by his injuries and exhaustion, were not fast enough and Jack swiftly reached out and grabbed his arm, dragging him back to the ground.

            "Don't try anything like that again, Ralph," the boy whispered, his breath hot on his ear. "The next time I will have to punish you and you certainly will not enjoy the experience."

            Ralph looked up at him hatefully, but didn't say a word. Jack smiled spitefully, then flipped him over onto his stomach and straddled him. He grabbed the boy's arms and pinned them together behind his back, then he began wrapping the rope about them, tying them viciously tight. Ralph squirmed in discomfort but his movement only added to his holder's pleasure.

            Once firmly secured, Jack grabbed the boy by the shoulders and hauled him up. Ralph swayed unsteadily on his feet and Jack kept hold of his shoulders for a moment to prevent the boy from falling over. The chief then picked up his spear and gestured to the group of hunters watching him.

            "Back to Castle Rock," he yelled. "We feast tonight to celebrate!"

            There was a cheer from the painted boys and they hurriedly turned and began making their way back to the other side of the island, easily avoiding the few pockets of the wood still burning. Soon it was only Jack and Ralph left. Jack smirked and prodded his captive with his spear.

            "Get going. I'll have to get you settled into your new home before I can go hunting."

            And Ralph began making his faltering way to the unfriendly side of the island, impeded by his tied hands and the other boy's incessant prodding. He smiled bitterly, knowing that, before today, he would never have considered Castle Rock his "home". Not where Piggy was murdered…

            He clenched his teeth, angrily. He had no choice in the matter. He was playing a game with his former friend, a game of Jack's choosing and Ralph didn't even know the rules. 

            He just hoped that the loser of the game didn't end up dead. After all, how could he hope to win a game which he didn't understand?

A/N     So… yeah, that was it. Thought it was definitely darker than the last one and I feel that it might suggest an upcoming trend. *Laughs sadistically* Oh I do just love torturing Ralph! *Grins evilly* That sort of angst really does just do it for me. I assume it does for you too, otherwise you would have stopped reading a while ago.      

If you enjoyed, please read and review!! It makes my day - really!


	3. Darkness

**A/N: I am still alive! Lol. Yes, believe it or not I am not dead! The GCSEs have tried, and failed, to overcome me. They will not succeed!**

** Sorry I've taken so long to update this story. I've had a little _too_ much LOTF recently – what with doing it for my exam and all. But I'm back! So hopefully you will all forgive me.**

** I would just like to thank you all so much for your reviews! This is the most gorgeous fandom I have ever posted a story in. You are all amazingly wonderful and I love you for it. You can safely say that it was all of you that inspired this story.**

** Mind you, I don't know if that's _such_ a good thing, bearing the type of fic this is in mind. Lol.**

** And to think I thought this was a dead fandom!**

**Enough of my rambling. Hope the wait was worth it and you enjoy!**

Castle Rock was alive with darkness. Everywhere lithe, painted bodies, gleaming dully with streaks of sweat in the light of the fire, twisted and turned, cries and laughter dispersing in the charged air.

Ralph couldn't breathe. Panic was lying heavy on his chest and his throat felt constricted, dry and painful. His tired body was on edge; unwillingly starting if one of the dark entities came too near, recoiling away from the spreading hysteria. His heart was fluttering in his chest, the quick, uneven rhythm keeping beat to the primal scene better than any human drum. Bile welled up in his throat and he, instinctively, raised his bound, dirty hands to his neck to claw futilely at the rough woven fibres of the creeper wrapped restrictively around it.

A hand casually slipped down from above him and enmeshed itself roughly in the blond boy's hair, gripping tightly. With a violent tug, he was brought up onto his knees from his position on the floor, and his head was forced back painfully until his ear was against his holder's lips.

"I thought I had made it perfectly clear that you weren't allowed to touch that rope," Jack murmured softly, his voice full of meaningful consequence.

Ralph shuddered involuntarily, the other boy's hot breath ghosting across his cheek. A droplet of sweat trembled on his brow and began to slowly make its decent, leaving a pleasantly cool trail across his feverish skin. He didn't want to anger the Chief. Not now. Not with multitudes of painted savages dancing their "dance"…

He swallowed, the clenching of his throat muscles making the creeper dig uncomfortably into his skin.

"I… can't breathe," he gasped out in explanation, knowing that it was futile, knowing that he would never get any sympathy from the other boy.

Jack laughed harshly and threw him back onto the rocky ground. "Good!" He grinned savagely, and took up the end of the rope, as if it was a leash, and jerked it swiftly backwards, making Ralph choke and move further towards the red-haired boy to prevent strangulation.

Jack leant forward, muscles tensing visibly under his painted skin, and whispered cruelly, "Now, be a good dog and _sit_."

Ralph looked at him through the dark night, hatred coursing through him. The emotion was strong, consuming and invigorating, flooding through his system and burning out any residues of panic he had still in him. His heart was strangely calm as he stared back into the pale blue eyes that now controlled him and slowly, intentionally, sat.

Jack looked at him coolly and smiled slightly, before wrapping the spare end of creeper around one of the wooden logs which comprised his throne, and standing up.

With the grace of a hunter, he made his way through the mass of moving human flesh, which seemed to part for him instinctively, and knelt down by the fire. He grabbed the stick from the savage in charge of cooking the large boar, which had been killed and gutted only two hours ago, and prodded the haunch of it. Seemingly satisfied, he nodded at the two savages kneeling above him and they immediately dragged the blackened, steaming bag of fat off the cooking fire, sending sparks tumbling up into the night air, amidst the cheers of the tribe.

Jack stood over the carcass, his face lit redly from below by the guttering fire, sending his features into relief and making the paint seem alive. He pulled out his knife, held it ritualistically above his head, and paused, his eyes fixated on Ralph's huddled figure, just out of the moving circle of light. He smiled ferally and plunged the blade down into the meaty, dripping flesh, twisting it deep. The tribe screamed their jubilation, their mouths watering in excitement, and immediately small, grubby hands were reaching for the half-raw, life giving substance.

Ralph watched their frenzied actions, unable to keep his own mouth from watering at the delicious smell and the sight of the tender, chewy meat. His belly growled emptily, the reminder painful. His last piece of food was the sandy piece of half-cooked meat Sam had shoved at him before the chase had begun…

He leant against the Chief's throne, the rough surface of the wood digging sharply into his back, and shut his eyes, willing it all away. In his mind he was back in the loving arms of his mother, he was swimming with his father, he was sleeping in his own bed, he was down in the village, he was eating the Sunday Roast… pork… pig… Piggy…

He shuddered and opened his eyes, only to find himself confronted by the bolting blue stare, only inches from his own face. He instinctively scrambled backwards, his heart thumping wildly, only to be stopped by a sharp, painful tug around his neck.

Jack was holding the creeper again.

He glared at him balefully, but the red-head only smirked.

"What were you thinking about?" he asked, his eyes raking up and down the other boy's body.

Ralph surppressed the urge to cover himself up from the hungry gaze. Feeling uncomfortably vulnerable in the other boy's presence, he turned away; silent.

Jack frowned slightly and tugged again on the rope attached to Ralph's neck. "I asked what you were thinking about." The words were spoken softly but with an undertone of menace, of a promised threat.

"S'none of your business," Ralph muttered, unwilling to allow the other such a personal invasion.

There was a tense silence. Then:

"You hungry, Ralph?"

Ralph turned his head quickly and regarded the other boy – or rather the other boy's hand which was held out in front of him, holding a piece of meat, dripping fat, pink and juicy. He swallowed and reached out for it with his bound hands, but it was immediately snatched back.

"What were you thinking?" Jack asked firmly, triumphantly.

Ralph closed his eyes unhappily, knowing he was defeated: he had to have the meat. He was so hungry. "I was thinking about being at home… with my mum and dad…" He opened his eyes. "I was thinking about Piggy," he said, quietly.

He could feel the anger radiating off the other boy at his words but he couldn't bring himself to care. To speak his name to his murderers seemed like a betrayal and it weighed heavily on his chest.

Piggy…

"Here," Jack spat from above him.

The meat was thrown to the ground and he immediately reached out his hands to snatch it up, bringing the warm piece of dirt-encrusted flesh to his mouth, and began tearing at it savagely, chewing it, swallowing it.

Jack watched him, expressionless. When he was done, he wordlessly held out another piece. Ralph reached out and grabbed it, muttered his thanks, and then rapidly consumed it as well.

Jack smiled coldly, then, without a warning, hauled upwards on the rope, making Ralph choke and quickly struggle to his feet, the process made difficult with both hands tied, to take the pressure off his neck. Jack smiled again, turned and tugged at the rope, indicating he wanted Ralph to follow him.

"Where are we going?" he breathed out heavily, stumbling after Jack, unsure of his footing in the strange, dark terrain.

"Back," was the non-committal grunt.

Ralph swallowed but continued following the other boy, having no choice in the matter. He didn't want to be at the fire, true, but going back to the dark, dank cave, which was now the Chief's home, with only Jack for company, hardly seemed a better option.

Jack stopped outside the entrance when he came to it, waiting, impatiently, for Ralph to catch up. When he did, gasping, Jack roughly shoved him inside.

Ralph had been shown the cave that afternoon; had been tied up in it for the majority of the time he had spent at Castle Rock, waiting, with a growing sense of dread, for Jack and his hunting party to arrive back with their kill. He had grown uncomfortably familiar with his surroundings – the rocky slab he had been forced to lie on, the large towering stalactite growing up from the middle of the sandy floor, the strange, dim light from a hole in the roof to one side – but this knowledge still didn't prevent him from cracking his shin on a jutting piece of limestone.

He cried out loud and fell to one knee, nursing his throbbing bone. Jack, following him, tugged cruelly on the rope, sending him sprawling to the ground. Ralph made to get up, but Jack was already on him, straddling him, pressing his full weight into him.

There was a silence, the only sound their ragged breathing: Ralph's from pain, Jack's from exhilaration. Ralph stared up at his tormentor in the almost total blackness, and thought he could see the white of the hunter's eyes.

What are you doing?" he asked, shifting restlessly beneath the other's hot, heavy body.

He got no reply. Instead, he felt Jack stiffen… and then he was gone, the heat of his body only a memory in the consuming black madness. He heard the red-head move further into the cave and, carefully, not wanting to attract unwanted attention to himself, he drew himself up and stood.

He glanced into the darkness, aware that for the first time since his capture he was unguarded, then turned his head in the direction of the entrance, weighing escape up in his mind. He knew, from the slackness of his throat's bondage, that Jack no longer held the rope. He could run. He could be free. He could do it!

_Run_.

His muscles tensed in anticipation of flight but, before he could take one step, a large, dirty hand clamped around his upper arm, and Jack's mouth was at his ear, his body close enough to Ralph that he could feel the heat radiating from it.

"If you escaped, I would find you," the breathy voice ghosted across his skin, excitement and malice embroiled in every word the boy spoke. "Always."

"I wasn't going to run," Ralph said, the sentence sounding false and ridiculous even in his own ears. He attempted to wrench his arm from Jack's grip but failed: the boy was strong.

The Chief ignored his words as if they had never been spoken. "If you ran, I would have to punish you." He paused, the dreadful excitement in his voice making Ralph shudder. "I would whip you," he said, softly. "I would whip you in front of the others. I would make you cry."

Ralph twisted away from him. "I wasn't going to run," he said firmly, unable to stop his voice from trembling slightly.

There was a silence.

"Get to bed," Jack said in his normal, arrogant tone, not even acknowledging the other's words.

Fingers trailed around Ralph's neck, feeling for the rope which kept him prisoner. Jack followed the creeper down until he reached the end of it, and tugged, sending Ralph forwards, towards him.

"You'll sleep by me tonight."

"I don't want to."

"Shut up."

Ralph was too tired to argue the point.

He felt, rather than saw, Jack lower himself to the ground and a sharp tug on the creeper made him follow suit. Dried grass hit his scuffed knees and the unlooked for comfort almost made him thank the other boy in unthinking relief. Almost. It would at least be more comfortable than the rock slab he had been on before.

Jack lay down and shifted about a bit, until he was happy with his position. He looked up through the gloom at Ralph and was annoyed to see the dark outline of his shape, sitting perfectly still, seemingly content.

"Lie down."

He tugged on the rope. Ralph didn't move.

"What are you going to do with me?" His voice was soft and quiet. A statement. A needing statement. A desperate statement.

Jack regarded the other's outline, thoughtfully.

"Nothing. Not tonight, anyway. Tonight we sleep." Jack paused, "I will tell you what I think you need to know in the morning. Now," he pulled again at the creeper, annoyance creeping through into his voice, "_sleep_."

Ralph hesitated, before gingerly lying down next to the boy, as far away as he could, taking up as little space as possible. Jack grunted and casually threw an arm around the blond boy's shoulders, drawing him closer. Ralph froze, the foreign limb heavy and clammy and… wrong on his back. He stiffened and closed his eyes, not wanting Jack's touch. He retreated back into his mind, back to his parents, back to the little cottage in Devon…

It was a long time before Ralph found peace that night and sleep took him.

**A/N So I hoped you liked and it wasn't a disappointment. I'm worried it wasn't as good as the other two.**

**The whole "R" rating thing is beginning to bug me slightly. I want it R, goddammit! But my brain is not allowing me to throw all credibility out the window with this one. They _are_ twelve after all. But it will become R! _Growls at stupid brain_ I'm the one in charge here.**

**Reviews are so greatly appreciated, you would not believe it. No, really. It's hard to fathom the undying gratitude and inspiration they produce.**


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